poke'mafia
by FXCF
Summary: in a town of evil, a single mafia boss want's it all. money, wemon, power, he want's it all. and his best killer might just be able to give him just that.


So, i'm making yet another pokemon fanfiction. This time like a mafia.

Yay.

In a large city, filled with greed, sin, and pure assholey-ness, stood a small strip club.

You see, this city was for hybrids. Hybrids are basically anthropomorphic pokemon. Humans ruled over hybrids, and hybrids played their roles of their toys. Anywho, back to the club.

Inside, was a helluva unlike the outside. Royal red carpets, gold plated bars, the smell of rosemaries in the air. And of course, a multitude of poles on platforms, with hybrids dancing on them. If your hearing was well trained, you could hear the sounds of sex from the upper floors, the sounds drowned out by the loud music. At the front entrance, was a man.

He was tall, maybe 7'11, with albino white hair cascading down his back. On his head was a black fedora, with a pink bandana wrapped around the top. His torso clothing consisted of a black jacket, with a flaming flareon skull on the back, and a mew skull on the breast of the front. Under that was a gold button up, bottom three buttons buttoned, and under that was a dark purple V-neck. On his hands were black gloves, one with a odd stone with a DNA symbol on the back, and the other with a slightly bigger stone, jet black with a white DNA symbol. Down to his legs, he wore skinny jeans, the color a almost black shade of purple. His shoes were a pair of black boots.

The man looked around, before walking over to a bar. Sitting down, he raised his hand slightly, and bartender walked over.

"What can i get you sir?" the gallade hybrid in generic bartender cloth asked. The man responded. "Strongest thing ya got." his voice had a minor irish tone to it, with a wee bit more russian in it. The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass, pouring a drink from a black labeled bottle.

Before the man could down his drink, the front door was slammed open. Twelve men walked in, all of them being fully human, and armed with shotguns and automatics.

"Allight fuckos, get on the ground! Now!" the leader shouted, firing into the air. Everyone hit the floor, all except one. The man. Two men, probably rookies, walked up to him. "Get on the ground, pal!" the man sighed, before counting under his breath. "1...2….3.." the armed man raised his shotgun to the back of the sitting man's head. "ON THE GROUND!" "4...5...6...now."

The sitting man swung his glass into the shotgun man's face, stunning him. From the man's jacket, came a jet black revolver, and fired point blank into the assaulters face, then shot the other man. He dived behind the counter as bullets flew towards him. He smiled. From his jacket, came a second jet black revolver. "Let's clean house." standing, he fired three shots into two of the attackers, killing them, and causing the others to duck. Using this opportunity, he ran towards them, and slammed the two revolvers together, and in a flash of black, they fused into a thompson automatic, and fired at the remaining eight men, killing one, and slid behind a stripers platform. The thompson transformed into two four foot long blades. Vaulting over the platform, the man slid, slicing a man in half. Getting up, he swung right, decapitating one man. _Six left_. The swords fused into a double barreled shotgun, blasting three to pieces. _Three left._ One man swung a knife at him, but he grabbed his hand and ripped the arm out of the socket, then kicked his boot into the man's head, caving it in. grabbing the knife, it soon entered the second guy's head.

The final man fell to the ground, his gun knocked away. "P-p-please!" he raised his hand, but the man slammed his fist through his head. Ripping it out, the man shouted. "It's safe to rise now, mates!" the people started to rise, the bartender looking at his ruined establishment. "Oi, lad. Catch." the man threw a large stack of cash at the bartender, who caught it with a stunned face. The man turned to leave, but turned his head to the tender, once more. "Also, this whole establishment is now property of the legendaries." he left.

This was an act of dominance from a high up mafia. The legendaries. They consisted of hybrid versions of the legendaries, the ones that rule the earth.

This was a personal mission from their biggest member.

Nixuliium umbra. The man who controls the dark powers of rage and fear.


End file.
